


Blue

by nasaplates



Series: CuriousCat Drabbles [6]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasaplates/pseuds/nasaplates
Summary: seokhao + blue





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earthshaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthshaker/gifts).



> self indulgent fluffy romantic garbage for dia

When Minghao paints him, it's always in shades of blue. He sets out other colors, plans in reds, yellows, greens, pinks, deep dark blacks, pristine whites. But when brush hits canvas, it's always blue.

Cobalt for the shadow under his jaw, pale pale sky for the shine on his high high cheekbones, azure along the slope of his nose. Blends of shades, highlights and lowlights, harsh lines and soft curves, blue on blue on blue.

He finishes his latest painting; the side of his face the way it looks on stage, in the bright lights, lost in the performance, every inch of him perfect. There's blue all across Minghao's hands, a streak he can feel dried in his hair when he runs his fingers through it. He knows if he looked in the mirror he'd have blue, maybe navy, smeared across his cheek.

With a last smudge with his thumb across the face on the canvas, across his lip, to blur it a touch, make it look to the right eyes like he's just been kissed (he should always be kissed), he gathers his brushes and goes to clean them.

It's a meditation, rinsing the paint from the brushes, squeezing the last of it from the bristles, shaping them and setting them into a waiting glass so they dry just right. Blue circles the sink, dark with color and then diluted to clear with each new brush cleaned. He thinks about rinsing the canvas in the same way, his beautiful blue face coursing in rivulets down to drip on the floor.

When the brushes are cleaned and the skin of his hands are getting raw, he dries his fingers with an old rag and pads to the door, flicking off the light of the studio. He doesn't turn back to look at the painting.

Minghao pads softly through the night dark house, trailing gentle fingers along the wall. There's a light on in the bedroom, shining through the open door. He leans on the jam, looks in.

The man from the painting is in the bed, sitting up against the headboard, covers pulled to his waist. His hair is artless, soft, face devoid of makeup, reading glasses perched on his nose, a book in his beautiful hands. 

He glows, shades of gold, warmth and light. Not a trace of blue.

Minghao pushes off the door jam, and the man looks up from his book. Minghao smiles, and the man smiles softly back.

"All done?" Seokmin asks, putting the book on the side table, pulling off his glasses, setting them on the book. 

Minghao goes to him, traces his brow, his nose with gentle fingers, his jaw, a reverant thumb smeared across his lip. Dips his head to kiss him (he should always be kissed). Thorough, worshipful, painting love across his mouth.

"Hmmm," Minghao hums against Seokmin's skin. "I missed you." 

And he tucks the way Seokmin's smile tastes like sunlight into a warm goldenrod place in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I live on twitter @nasaplates


End file.
